


Star Wars Fic from Tumblr (mostly)

by Amemait



Category: Star Wars, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: GFY, M/M, tumblr import fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 08:27:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 47
Words: 13,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7837570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amemait/pseuds/Amemait
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I have a tumblr account (find me as Amemait!), and I post some short fics to that and I've decided to post them here now.<br/>I'm sorting these by fandom; the Star Wars/Avengers crossover set, however, will be posted here, and not in the Avengers fic.<br/>I have attempted to post these in order of when they were written. Items which were inspired by other posts I will link to my own tumblr fic post page (if there are multiple such, I will link to the most recent of those.</p><p>Complain about formatting all you like I'll fix it when I'm not doing this on half a screen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you’re safe as long as you don’t imagine your otp slow dancing to ‘the way you look tonight’ in their pjs in the kitchen of their new house at 3am with their heads resting on each other’s shoulders if you do imagine that then you’re ruined im sorry
> 
> * * *

From [19/08/2014](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/95168512123/buckyhtml-youre-safe-as-long-as-you-dont):

 

* * *

 

It’s third hour.  
They moved out of the apartment the Emperor had given to Thrawn that morning. It had been cathartic for Jorj, and Thrawn was astonished to discover how many datacards had made their way over to him.  
Moving the safe had been the hardest part - really the only part they’d required movers for. Jorj had kept his eyes narrowed at them the whole time, which was fair enough.  
And now it was third hour, and Thrawn was sitting and staring out at an entirely different view from the one he’d grown accustomed to.  
“Hey,” Jorj mumbled, staggering out of the bedroom. “Can’t sleep?”  
Thrawn smiled at him. “Not for lack of trying to find sleep with you next to me, I promise.” He sighed a little and looked back out. “I’ve never had… a place to live that’s entirely been mine. It feels strange.”  
“Hey, you’re sharing,” Jorj grumbled, and shuffled over to the sound system. It had been inbuilt, and Jorj had jumped at the apartment on the strength of that alone.  
“Ch’eo?” Thrawn asked, and Jorj punched in something and turned back to grin at him.  
“If sleep’s eluding you… want to dance?”  
“…You’re insane.”  
“As your language teacher, I insist.”  
“You insist because dancing is a language?” Thrawn asked, taking his hand and letting Jorj lead him wherever he liked.  
“Yeah. Body language.” Jorj rested his head on Thrawn’s shoulder and yawned once.  
Thrawn laughed softly, and followed the movements. “All right.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you could be sad about your otp but consider:
> 
> one making awful breakfast for the other and the other eating it because they appreciate it that much  
> one putting their ridiculous music on in the car and singing along while the other sits in the passenger seat with their head in their hands  
> the two of them going down to the beach and one getting sunburned really badly so the other slathers them with aloe gel when they get home  
> one getting home from work later than the other and stretching out on top of them like a big lazy cat while they sit on the couch in front of the tv  
> one inexplicably bringing home an animal and refusing to drop it at the shelter so they and the other have to take care of it  
> the both of them going out to a park and getting ice cream to sit with and eat on a bench  
> one sending memes to the other while they’re at work so much they turn their phone off in exasperation  
> one giving the other their jacket and not getting it back from the other until it stops smelling like them

From [25/08/2014](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/95724674868/josephjtoye-you-could-be-sad-about-your-otp):

* * *

 

 

  * one making awful breakfast for the other and the other eating it because they appreciate it that much



Thrawn loves it every time Jorj makes breakfast, but he also likes to cook it for Jorj. This is what love looks like. Sharing a warm meal, either made by or made for one who knows what it’s like to starve.

  * one putting their ridiculous music on in the car and singing along while the other sits in the passenger seat with their head in their hands



They both have interesting and differing tastes in music. Jorj’s is simply easier to get hold of. But Thrawn doesn’t hold his head in his hands. He likes to watch the way Jorj’s face lights up too much to care about the state of his eardrums.  
Jorj has never heard Thrawn sing, and regrets that. But speaking Cheunh lends itself well enough to poetry through manipulating the grammatical construction.  
And Thrawn has definitely mastered the art of saying ‘I want you inside me’ in as romantic a way as grammatically possible within the synthetic language that Cheunh is.

  * the two of them going down to the beach and one getting sunburned really badly so the other slathers them with aloe gel when they get home



Thrawn is never going to admit to enjoying the feel of his skin still-warm, because he enjoys the feel of Jorj putting that strange-smelling stuff on his back too much. He’s an Imperial Officer, not dead.

  * one getting home from work later than the other and stretching out on top of them like a big lazy cat while they sit on the couch in front of the tv



As Jorj is a smuggler (and occasionally an intelligence operative), he doesn’t really have set hours.  
They both do this. Fortunately they usually make it to bed before anything more exciting happens; Voss has that nasty habit of knocking on the door otherwise.

  * one inexplicably bringing home an animal and refusing to drop it at the shelter so they and the other have to take care of it



Jorj. I’ve already covered this one. Jorj finds a box of Pittens and cannot bring himself to not adore them. Thrawn gives in because he is a pushover who knows what’s good for him.

  * the both of them going out to a park and getting ice cream to sit with and eat on a bench



Thrawn is not going to eat ice cream. Ever. He is consistently confused when Jorj does. He doesn’t see the appeal. Cold food. What?  
And he babies Jorj when he gets a brain freeze because that is awful why would you do that why would you eat something cold and see this is why cold things are bad to eat. Have some of this hot chocolate instead.

  * one sending memes to the other while they’re at work so much they turn their phone off in exasperation



“I am trying to run a Star Destroyer.”  
“Were you on shift ch’acin’t?”  
“Yes.”  
“…Did you have your comm on silent?”  
“…Yes.”  
“Then my work here is done.”

  * one giving the other their jacket and not getting it back from the other until it stops smelling like them



At first, Jorj simply takes a few shirts to wear when he’s gone, or steals them in the mornings when he finds he forgot to bring clothes over in the first place.  
Thrawn encourages this behaviour. Jorj trusts him enough to borrow his clothes; Jorj trusts him to have warm clothes to wear and borrow; Jorj trusts him.  
Jorj trusts Thrawn to keep him warm. There is no higher honour to be paid than this, even between matches.

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Imagepost)  
> Grand Admiral Thrawn c. 4 ABY

From [25/08/2014](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/95725964438/mittthrawnuruodo-grand-admiral-thrawn-c-4):

* * *

 

Out of view of this image are the Emperor and Jorj.   
Jorj knows who the Emperor is.   
Thrawn is banking on the Emperor having forgotten who Jorj is.   
He’s almost right.   
The Emperor’s eyes slide over Jorj, like he’s not there. Thrawn knows he is though.   
Jorj looks terrified. The Emperor calls him ‘pilot’.  
Thrawn isn’t sure if this is Jorj’s skill or a sign the Emperor’s mind is fading.

It takes observing Vader in the room with him to know for sure.   
Vader noticed everybody in the room. It’s a skill Thrawn has admired previously.   
But he doesn’t even comment on Jorj, who is so incongruous in this room, so obviously a smuggler.

Thrawn worries that he might forget Jorj too one day.   
He hopes that Jorj won’t let him. Won’t ever feel the need and terror great enough to do what he’s so clearly doing to Vader and the Emperor both.  
To them, Jorj is nothing.   
To Thrawn, Jorj is everything.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes you could be sad about your pairings but:
> 
> Inappropriately timed confessions  
> At a ski lodge and somehow got stuck outside in the middle of the storm but hey look there’s a conveniently abandoned cabin I guess the logical thing to do is go in there and snuggle for warmth for the night  
> Seeing love interest in formal wear for the first time whaaat  
> Everyone thinks they’re dating and then they start wondering if they’re dating  
> Oops friend looks like the only place to sleep in this house is this small, twin-sized bed, guess we’ll have to share  
> Thunderstorm cuddles  
> Crashed the wrong wedding and now the best man/maid of honor is on my ass, but hey they’re kinda hot so???  
> Run into each other in a hospital while there for really stupid reasons  
> Both have same obscure taste in music and meet in a dark corner of a music store  
> Neighbors in a shitty apartment building that share a sense of solidarity for each other (also a mutual attraction because hotawhat)  
> Sleepy kisses  
> Inappropriately timed confessions  
> INAPPROPRIATELY TIMED PROPOSALS  
> that is all

From [29/08/2014](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/96035293233/ironinkpen-yes-you-could-be-sad-about-your):

 

* * *

 

  * Inappropriately timed confessions



“I’m still not leaving the Empire.”  
“That is a kriffing awful thing to say when you nearly have me in bed get out right now. No sex tonight. Maybe no sex ever.”

  * At a ski lodge and somehow got stuck outside in the middle of the storm but hey look there’s a conveniently abandoned cabin I guess the logical thing to do is go in there and snuggle for warmth for the night



“I thought you were from a snow-and-ice planet.”  
“A planet which is COVERED in snow and ice. We live in tunnels. Where it is warm. Ktah.”  
“You’re not happy about this are you?”  
“We are snuggling for warmth and you keep hogging the blankets.”  
“Hey, I figure if we’re already breaking and entering to steal the use of this cabin…”  
“If we get in trouble I’ll just have this property retroactively acquired by the Empire and the owner compensated?”  
“Aaaaannnnd still no sex tonight either.”

  * Seeing love interest in formal wear for the first time whaaat



“The dress uniform looks good on you. Cut nicely.”  
“Good enough for you to forgive that I’m wearing it in the first place?”  
“I said the dress uniform looks good. The usual olive-gray-thing looks awful and clashes horribly with both your skin and your eyes, and you are not getting sex tonight.”

  * Everyone thinks they’re dating and then  _they_  start wondering if they’re dating



“We’re not dating are we?”  
“I hope not. If we are you still take me on the worst dates.”  
“The picnic and the art gallery were all right.”  
“WE ARE IN A BAR BEING SHOT AT THIS IS NOT A DATE THIS IS A NORMAL WEEKDAY FOR ME.”  
“True.”

  * Oops friend looks like the only place to sleep in this house is this small, twin-sized bed, guess we’ll have to share



“The sofa isn’t big enough for either of us.”  
“I said no sex tonight I didn’t say I wasn’t going to sleep with you.”

  * Thunderstorm cuddles



“What the ktah was that?!”  
“C’mere you strange alien. What, they don’t get thunderstorms on Csilla?”  
“No and it confuses me that we get them here; Imperial Centre’s weather systems-”  
“The weather controllers have been on strike since last week do you not read the local holonet?”  
“Ah. You’re very warm you know.”  
“You’re very cute when you’re cuddly.”

  * Crashed the wrong wedding and now the best man/maid of honor is on my ass, but hey they’re kinda hot so???



“Well, this is awkward.”  
“This is the stupidest roleplay ever, let’s go back to the trapped smuggler and the corrupt CEDF captain.”

  * Run into each other in a hospital while there for really ridiculous reasons



“You got injured.”  
“Um.”  
“A-kriffing-gain.”  
“Um.”  
“Don’t you um me, I taught you better Basic than that!”  
“Why are you here precisely?”  
“Because I’m your emergency contact. Remember?”  
“You know I love you, right?”  
“Shut up and let me check to see if these meds are going to kriff you over like the last batch.”

  * Both have same obscure taste in music and meet in a dark corner of a music store



“This is unexpected.”  
“Were you looking for a present for my Life Day?”  
“…I was looking for something for me, but I suppose as I’ve found you here…”  
“You are a crappy romantic and I love you.”  
“I love you too, help me pick out some ridiculous music to remind me of you.”

  * Neighbors in a shitty apartment building that share a sense of solidarity for each other (also a mutual attraction because hotawhat)



“I take it back. This is the stupidest roleplay ever.”  
“Pirate?”  
“I’ll be the pirate this time. You can be the cute thing I picked up on an exile planet.”

  * Sleepy kisses



“Morning.”  
“Too early. Back to sleep.”  
“Oka-mmmmm.”

  * _Inappropriately timed confessions_



“I love you.”  
“This is an official and monitored communication line, sweetheart. My communications ensign is still listening in. And I’m on the bridge right now.”  
“I know, that’s why I’m saying this, and not suggesting holocall sex like I want to right now.”

  * _INAPPROPRIATELY TIMED PROPOSALS_



“Match with me?”  
“You are literally doing undercover work right now, your hair looks ridiculous, and all your official records have been wiped. Also you are drunk.”  
“…Match with me?”  
“I didn’t say no, strange alien.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I took prompts for a little bit.
> 
> deadcatwithaflamethrower requested for her Birthday Prompt:
> 
> Prompt:  
> Thrawn consolidates the Empire and makes the lot of them retreat to the Ascendency borders, patiently waiting for the threat he knows is coming.  
> (Anyone who doesn’t willingly retreat is quietly disposed of; no one needs that sort of loud, screaming, dead-Emperor-beholden distraction.)
> 
>  
> 
> Which has resulted in this so far. It’s going to be huge. Fuck.
> 
> I don’t know how to make this read-more on the app, so meh. It’s late here have some fic.

From [01/09/2014](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/96347523853/deadcatwithaflamethrower-requested-for-her):

* * *

 

“It’s outrageous.”  
And there were the inevitable responses from the Moffs, summed up in one table-pounding moron. There were definitely days when he missed Vader. The man had been always able to look past his skin and eyes to the truth. Not even the Emperor had that skill.  
Thrawn glared at him silently for a few moments until the hand retreated. “You believe I should press a non-existent advantage to deal with a Rebellion which should have been dealt with rather more effectively before now? It is hardly under my control that people you chose to lead the Empire’s military before this point have been… incapable. Incompetent.” Thrawn narrowed his eyes almost to slits. “Imperial Centre should never have fallen.”  
“But what you are suggesting is suicide!”  
“No, Moff Disra. What you are suggesting is suicide. Certainly it might gain you some small political leverage, to oppose me. But as it stands I am the last Grand Admiral of the Empire, and I will not permit you to sacrifice my people on your altar to self-destruction.” Thrawn stood. “Zinsj will fall all too soon. Should you stand with him, I guarantee that you will fall as well.”  
“Better to fall a member of the Empire than to follow someone the Emperor exiled to the Unknown Regions.”  
Thrawn graced him with a thin smile. “Your objections are noted and will be taken into consideration at a later time. I have the full support of the military, with the sole exception of Zinsj’s little enclave. You may very well hold Bastion, but that is not the sole source of the Empire’s money. And there are other Moffs.”  
“There is no larger source of funds within the Empire.”  
Thrawn smiled a little wider. Let the human continue to think that.

“That could have gone a great deal better, sir.”  
“On the contrary, Captain. I expected it to go a great deal worse. Which suggests to me that Disra is up to something. Again.”  
“Sir?”  
Thrawn looked at Pellaeon. “You seem surprised, captain. Merely because I have been out of the Empire on this side of the galaxy for some time does not mean that I have been out of touch. Disra has frequently concocted various schemes, this is unlikely to be much different.”  
“Why do you think he’s opposing you now, sir?”  
“Disra was hardly the first to disagree with my promotion to Captain, let alone to Grand Admiral. Of course, by the time it was officially announced, I’d already been one for months. The Emperor knew to keep quiet about his choices.”  
Pellaeon nodded. “It’s good to have you back, sir. The Empire has… Missed having a decent leader since the Emperor died.”  
Thrawn shot him a look. “The Emperor was no leader. He was a master of political manipulation and of many things besides, but he was no leader.”  
“Sir?” Pellaeon jolted in surprise.  
Thrawn restrained a sigh. “Would you throw away all of your advantages in the hopes of gaining one single new follower, condemning numbers of your own men to die because you chose to focus your entire being on that one thing? A leader should be many things, Captain, but he should never unnecessarily endanger those under his command. Least of all on a thin hope.”  
“Skywalker is a Jedi, sir. Perhaps the Emperor was merely trying to kill him?”  
“No, the Emperor wanted an apprentice to replace Vader. It didn’t work. I thank my stars I was weak enough to avoid detection then, or I might have been tapped next myself.”  
Pellaeon stiffened at the voice coming from the shadows, realising that he had followed the Grand Admiral into his Ready Room.  
“I don’t believe you’ve met my Match before, Captain. At least, not formally. Jorj?”  
The shadows shifted and Pellaeon was suddenly rather uncomfortably reminded of the way he’d felt when he was very young and thought there might have been a monster under his bed.  
“Captain… Pellaeon. Corellian. Interesting service record you’ve got. Kindly don’t attempt to seduce either myself or the Grand Admiral; I can see that you typically prefer women, but I was thinking it might also be that you’re attracted to power.”  
“Jorj isn’t physically present at this time, Captain,” Thrawn explained, as though that made anything in the least better or more-explained? “He’s closer to Wild Space than to Obroa-Skai. Jorj, kindly cease terrifying him, could you give him a physical appearance to focus on?”  
The shadows flickered and gained… Pellaeon grimaced at his own mental phrasing, but it was the shadow of solidity. Whatever he was witnessing, it was definitely occurring with a lot of effort from the person who was so far away.  
“Ghost of solidity might work better, if you’re worried about repeating yourself,” suggested the shadow. “Just think of me as a ghost. Or as I’m still alive, perhaps a projection may be more accurate for you? And you do so crave accuracy don’t you.”  
It wasn’t a question.  
“Jorj, I did ask you to cease terrifying him.”  
“As you wish,” the projection offered, and there was a brief moment where the dark it was hiding in turned into something akin to Darth Vader in his cloak and mask before it reappeared beside the Grand Admiral, almost solid.  
A fairly attractive male humanoid.  
“I’m human, before you ask. Corellian. Like you, as it happens.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the Inquisitor AU as written by me, based (exceedingly loosely) on artwork drawn by lledra-fanstuffs.
> 
> An AU picture of the Inquisitor as a Jedi kneeling in front of a youngling Ahsoka Tanos.  
> “Do you want to be my Padawan?”
> 
> Three pictures of the Inquisitor and Ahsoka Tano at various possible stages of their lives; the first a Master Inquisitor and a Padawan Ahsoka, the second both Padawans Inquisitor and Ahsoka, the third a Padawan Inquisitor and a Master Ahsoka.  
> 'A quick sketch inspired by amemait’s addition to my post.'
> 
> A picture of Sabine Wren being stalked by the Inquisitor  
> “You cannot hide from me.”
> 
> A pair of differently-focused images of a Padawan Ahsoka Tano and a Master Inquisitor.

[“Do you want to be my Padawan?”](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/103398663808/lledra-fanstuffs-do-you-want-to-be-my)

Positing the alternate idea that he’s Kanan’s age or even younger. Let’s reverse this:

* * *

 

“Do you want to be my Padawan?” asked Ahsoka Tano, and the Initiate gaped. This was Knight Tano asking him of all people - she’d been the Padawan of Anakin Skywalker, she’d been one third of the team who’d taken down the Sith Lord and made the Galaxy safe again.  
And here she was, standing in front of him, offering the unbelievable.   
“Yes!” he cried. Nearly thirteen, nearly too old by some reckonings of the Council (but that opinion was changing), and he’d just been chosen by one of the bravest and most beloved Jedi in the Galaxy. “Yes, I would love to be your Padawan, Master Tano!”  
The Togruta knight gave him a grin, a flash of bright teeth.   
“I like you kid. You can call me Snips.”

 

* * *

 [A quick sketch inspired by amemait’s addition to my post.](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/103405360063/lledra-fanstuffs-a-quick-sketch-inspired-by)

* * *

 “So this was you when you were my age, Master?” her Padawan asked up at her, and Ahsoka laughed.   
“Yeah. That’s me and Skyguy and Rex and Obi-Wan and Padmé and Cody.”  
“Huh.” He waited a few beats and Ahsoka knew what he was going to say before he even opened his mouth.   
“You were really short back then,” he laughed, and Ahsoka laughed with him. He was rapidly catching up to her height, no longer the gangly young Initiate she’d first met. It hurt that he was growing up so quickly and his size had nothing to do with it.   
“It’s hardly my fault you’re all limbs and lightsaber. Come on. Lunch is ready, and Anakin wants to tell you more embarrassing stories of my apprenticeship.”  
“Coming Master,” he agreed readily, and followed.

 

 

* * *

 

[“You cannot hide from me.”](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/107061163613/lledra-fanstuffs-you-cannot-hide-from-me)

* * *

Master?”  
Ahsoka looked up when the door to her rooms slid open and her apprentice stepped in, all small and orange sleep clothes.   
Her former apprentice, which was the weird part. Then again, perhaps not so?  
“Hey. Look at you, all up in the middle of the night and everything. Anybody would think you got your sleeping patterns from me,” she said lightly, standing from her meditation and heading for the kitchen. Tea. Definitely tea needed right now.   
Her former apprentice smiled, more a shadow that brushed over his lined face. There were a lot of shadows on his face sometimes that shouldn’t be there.   
“I had the dream again, Master,” he whispered, wrapping arms around himself and kneeling on one of her cushions, left on the floor for precisely this reason. “It was a girl in brightly coloured armour. Again. A child, Master.”  
Ahsoka placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Drink the tea and meditate with me. Then we’re going to see Anakin tomorrow. All right?”  
Her apprentice nodded silently, and the shadows on his face shifted and for a single moment he looked like the red-and-black covered nightmare she knew he still feared. “Yes Master.”

 

* * *

 [Listening](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/109469897743/lledra-fanstuffs-listening-her-padawan-makes) 

 

* * *

 

Her Padawan makes her feel young again.

It’s the first true realisation Ahsoka has about her new Padawan, beyond the echoing call of the Force telling her how truly right he was for her.

She wants to give him all the joys of being a Padawan in peacetime.

And she can.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine Kanan having to cut off his Padawan braid not because he was knighted, but to go into hiding.
> 
> (Written before Kanan: The Last Padawan was out)

From [15/12/2014](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/105243208288/pandorem-imagine-kanan-having-to-cut-off-his):

* * *

 

Imagine Caleb just shaving his whole head and putting on bandages and walking (because running attracts attention) away.  
Somewhere where there are lots of damaged people.   
Somewhere he can say ‘Kanan’ until it sounds natural to his ears, until it no longer tastes like ash and death in his mouth.  
Imagine Cal- Kanan! - touching the bare spot behind his right ear and shuddering.   
Imagine Kanan’s hair growing, and one day he sweeps it all into a tail to keep it at the back of his head and at the back of his mind.   
Imagine Kanan braiding his own hair one night, an anniversary, not stopping until all his hair is braided and his fingers ache but it’s better than drinking and letting his tongue loose.  
Imagine Hera holding him close while he unties each the next morning and sobs.   
Imagine Kanan staring at Ezra’s hair and his fingers itching.  
Imagine Kanan dismissing that itch. He keeps to the code only rarely now, and a padawan hairstyle is far too dangerous. Besides. He’s training this boy, but Ezra’s not much littler than he was when-  
Imagine Hera holding him that night too.   
Imagine Caleb dreaming at nights about his braid being cut.   
Imagine Kanan dreaming at nights of anything but.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from ame-kage:  
> “Something something Skywalker, something something Explosion….”
> 
> (written before Rebels s2)

From [15/12/2014](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/105257387238/askbox-something-something-skywalker):

* * *

 

  
“Something something Skywalker, something something Explosion….”  
The man was old now, and his bones creaked with the pains of a youth lived too fast, but he still looked up.  
“Skywalker?” he asked, and the speaker paused.  
“You mind? This is a private conversation.”  
The old man tipped his head slightly and the younger speaker paused… Differently this time.  
“Yeah, I said Skywalker. That’s the rumour. That he was on the Death Star when it blew, and got out using magic.”  
“Anakin?” The old man asked, confused. He rarely came into town, avoided the holocasts, avoided the information. “And don’t you mean the Force?”  
“Man, keep your voice down about that religious shit! And nah, not that old story. Maybe a relative, like his son or something. If Jedi could have kids or whatever. Luke. The Hero of the Rebellion, that’s what they’re calling him.”  
The old man nodded slowly, then stood and paid his tab. After half a moment’s hesitation, he paid the youngster’s tab too, by way of thanks.  
Luke Skywalker, huh?  
Maybe it was time that Captain Rex stepped out of his quiet retirement then.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some meta which turned into fic.
> 
> 1: A picture of William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy as Kirk and Spock, hugging.  
> needsmorestartrek:  
> Just when I thought I had felt all the feels… I’m feeling this hardcore.  
> mssitthy:  
> Meanwhile, in Star Trek…  
> GUYS IF ONLY. If only we could have Pellaeon/Thrawn as space dorks in a nice little spin-off series too, call it “Legends” or “Legacies” or whatever it is now if we have to. Just the IMPERIAL ADVENTURES OF THRAWN AND PELLAEON. Kicking ass in space. WATCHING ART. Petting Ysalamiri. LOADS OF ART TALK with Pellaeon going “yes, hmm, indeed”. GARDENING.  
> IT’D BE GLORIOUS. 
> 
> 2: A picture of Ahsoka Tano and Captain Rex walking beside each other, taken from their first conversation in The Clone Wars.  
> clifford-telegenic:  
> The one on the left is four years younger.
> 
> 3: A piece of meta about Star Wars:  
> kablob17:  
> I don’t think I’ll ever get over the fact that the Imperial March actually exists within the Star Wars universe. Thank you, Rebels.  
> amarielah:  
> The best part is that it’s this weird, cheerful variant of it. It’s the contrast between how the Empire conceives of itself versus the people who see it from the outside.

From [16/12/2014](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/105342548493/mssithy-needsmorestartrek-just-when-i):

* * *

 

Okay but you don’t understand I’ve got a picture of Mulan on my Dash directly beneath this post I have this image of Thrawn watching Mulan with somebody (I’m a Thrawn/Jorj person myself but whoever takes your fancy) and smiling and being pleased with Mulan and seeing himself in Mulan and then getting to the snow battle scene and simultaneously being pleased with her tactics while also being all ugh no at the snow (and when questioned goes I hate snow, it’s cold and gets everywhere), and then MULAN GETS KICKED OUT IN THE SNOW and Thrawn hides it, he does, but he feels the bite of Exile sometimes still and here’s this character he’s enjoyed watching, who’s been brave, who’s done all she could to save those who depended on her-  
And then she’s forced out into the snow and left essentially to die.

You said you’d trust Ping, he mouths with her.  
I thought you’d never seen this movie?  
I haven’t, Thrawn whispers, not mentioning that he’s lived it.

 

 

* * *

From [28/12/2014:](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/106341224633/clifford-telegenic-the-one-on-the-left-is-four)

* * *

 

At LEAST four years younger.

Maybe more than that.

Maybe Rex is three. Perhaps he’s four. Mentally and physically an adult, emotionally, who knows in peacetime.

Ten years younger than Ahsoka - Commander Tano, General Skywalker’s Padawan however much he might protest it right now Rex can see the truth in Obi-Wan’s smirk and the way Anakin would be a great teacher.

Ten, perhaps even eleven years younger than she, he turns to the Jedi child and calmly informs her after her casual attempt to pull rank, that in his book it’s experience that counts more than rank.

She takes it well.

She’ll do well, Rex decides.

 

* * *

 

From [31/12/2014](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/106640627478/amarielah-kablob17-i-dont-think-ill-ever):

* * *

 

From the inside, if you’re not being directly oppressed (nonhumans, people targeted by the Empire because their farm is in the way, those not living on the fringes, etc), the Empire must seem great.

There’s Palpatine at the head and wasn’t he great he saved us all in that war. And the Empire just DEALS with internal civil war before it becomes a problem that affects other systems. And the courts are all cleaned up and you can get a fair trial without all them pesky lawyers messing around and corrupt judges as what sided with the Trade Federation, ‘member that?

Yesirree, the Empire’s the best thing to happen to this Galaxy.

(Until you start to say Free Will, the Jedi were cool, no you can’t have my farm, I’m an alien, I’m not fully human. Until you look at the Empire and wonder. And then you have to run.)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Star Wars characters are reincarnated as the Avengers AU.
> 
> Tumblr was in one of its 'reblog as link!' phases so it's a pain in the arse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [WITH BONUS DELIGHTFUL FANART CHECK THIS OUT ISN'T IT JUST GORGEOUS?!](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/106375192073/kavkakat-amemait-and-bedlamsbard-were-talking)

From [28/12/2014](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/106355506318/bedlamsbard-flyinghalfaship)(ish):

  

* * *

 

 

Natasha knows the feeling of red on her hands, and holds the blades in her dreams of glowing crimson.  
Her hair is red and some days she’s confused to see it there, confused to even have hair.  
Her sigil is red upon black, the black has always felt both natural and wrong, the red the same.  
Her hands hold blades dripping red that doesn’t glow and her opponent smiles at her suddenly, an expression she doesn’t expect to see on this too-pale face with its wrong wrong WRONG hair but it’s achingly familiar.  
“Let’s try this again,” he says.

-  
  
Nick Fury always liked Hawkeye and could never work out why. Maybe it was the way the universe seemed to twist itself around him when things were wrong, maybe it was the brains hiding under the far-off stare.  
Maybe it was the emphasis on a purple fashion sense.

-

Natasha looks at Steve and wants to spar, to flirt casually, to fight him, to save him.  
He smiles openly he smiles guardedly he smiles like he sun is coming out and he smiles like he can barely see the starlight on a far off planet surrounded by death and reeking of the ozone that comes with the long glowing blades neither of them carry.

The Winter Soldier when she stares him down has the same smell, and she fights him tooth and nail and wishes for the bright hum of red in her hands, knows that if she had it he would too. He’s machine and man in a twisted lump at his heart and visibly at his arm, and Natasha can almost hear something about him whisper (there is still good in him).

Steve never has a plan. Everyone just thinks he does. Natasha feels the wrong of it in her bones when there is a plan to follow, and then she realises that the plan Steve’s made is ‘leave that to me’ when things go wrong (and they inevitably go wrong).

-

Rumlow is loyal, then somebody speaks to him with words that twist and pull at his mind. Should have would have might have been. He thinks to himself, protect democracy. He thinks to himself, follow his orders (both written and verbal and etched into his mind).

He thinks to himself, why does he like wearing yellow?

His dreams are nightmares of white and screaming death and the knowledge that he’s killed those he’s cared for and he doesn’t know who he is anymore.

And then Rumlow wakes up, and smiles at his CO, and thinks Hail Hydra, and thinks Execute Orders.

-

Sitwell shudders at what they’ve done to the man he knows to be the Winter Soldier, but isn’t sure why he feels the horror all the way in his heart.

He accepts the special orders from Fury on the strength of that feeling.

Remain undercover.

Help.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> peapodcapaldi:  
> whatever you do don’t imagine one half of your otp reading while the other one dozes on their shoulder all tangled up in the bedsheets don’t do it please

From [04/01/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/107061163613/lledra-fanstuffs-you-cannot-hide-from-me):

* * *

 

“You’re thinking.”  
  
“Technically I’m working,” Thrawn mumbled, making another note in his datapad.   
  
“That’s even worse and you know it,” Jorj growled, sitting up. “Why?”  
  
“Because I have a capital warship to run and there are never enough hours in the day?” Thrawn suggested, scowling at his battle plans. He had a nagging feeling he was forgetting something.   
  
Jorj’s hand curling around the top of the datapad to glare at him was a clue. “Ah. Hello and good morning?” Thrawn tried innocently.   
  
“Are you saying I distract from your work?” Jorj asked with a raised eyebrow and for a split second Thrawn considered saying yes, he did. Because if there was one thing Jorj Car'das was good at, it was distracting Mitth'raw'nuruodo.   
  
Instead, Thrawn just stroked his hair lightly. “I don’t think you distract me from work. I just want to get this finished so I can spend more time with you while you’re awake.”  
  
Jorj considered him with narrowed eyes for a few more minutes, then huffed a sigh. “All right.” He turned his glare onto the datapad, took it off Thrawn, made a few notes of his own, and nipped his neck. “There.”  
  
“Hrm?” Thrawn asked.  
  
“Lothal’s been seeing Jedi activity recently in with the Rebels and you probably weren’t told because your clearance isn’t high enough. The Inquisitor’s there.”  
  
Thrawn wrinkled his nose. “Really? I have to factor in the likelihood that he’ll show up with that experimental TIE of his?”  
  
“And his Star Destroyer,” Jorj yawned, and Thrawn put the datapad down.  
  
“I have to scrap everything don’t I?”  
  
“Mm, just about. Teach you to do work in bed.”  
  
“Ktah,” Thrawn swore, and kissed him. “Breakfast in bed, match?”  
  
“And caff. And if you’re very good I might let you go to work afterwards.”  
  
“Are you going to help?” Thrawn checked.   
  
“You’re sure I won’t distract you?” Jorj asked, clearly still annoyed.   
  
“Call it motivation.”  
  
“Better. And I want toast with that caff,” Jorj added as Thrawn staggered out of the bed.  
  
“Sadist.”  
  
“No working in bed,” Jorj answered, flopping down and getting comfortable.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay look somebody reblogged an OTP post today about one half of the otp going ‘you’re an [insult]’ and the other half being all ‘yeah well you married this [insult]!’ And that was like a positive conversational trope for the otp.
> 
> My contribution.

From[ 09/01/2015(ish)](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/107587705648/okay-look-somebody-reblogged-an-otp-post-today):

* * *

 

“Dammit Thrawn for somebody who can understand so much about people just by looking at art? Sometimes you can be really cold.”

Thrawn froze. “Yes, well. You took this cold one for a match. I apologise.” He turned, heading for the door.

Jorj blinked. “Wait, where… You know what I’m still mad at you I don’t care where you’re going.”

“Naturally.” Thrawn picked up his coat. “What does the sun care that it shines onto a cloud and does not melt the snow?” He mumbled in cheunh as he left.

And wasn’t back the next morning.

*

"Are you going to come home?” Jorj asked, feeling small and awkward and wondering how exactly this had become his fault, Thrawn was the one who’d left.

Thrawn, who was looking down at his battle plans as though they were the most interesting thing in the room, but Jorj could tell he kriffing wasn’t. Another might have thought so, but Jorj could always tell where those eyes were genuinely focused.

Thrawn, whose shoulders were hunched as though he were the one left small and awkward by this conversation.

“You’re a warm light,” Thrawn whispered at last. “You deserve somebody equally warm, equally light. Not somebody cold like me.” He tucked his right elbow against his side, the gesture designed to let another pass without accidentally touching him. “I unwillingly release you from your kindnesses to me as your match,” he added, each morpheme like a block of ice to make a wall.

“Unwillingly…?” Jorj repeated, a little dumbstruck. “You’re divorcing me?!” he yelped once the meaning was clear.

Thrawn straightened. “I’m letting you go if you wish. You don’t need to invite me home out of… Out of pity or habit or something else.”

“I’m your fucking husband and I want you to come the fuck home, I don’t want a kriffing divorce, Thrawn, I just want you. I want you to come home and we can kriffing talk about this rather than you storming out in a temper or whatever that was last week. What were we even fighting about anyway, huh?” Jorj asked, lying through his teeth because he knew they’d been fighting about the Empire’s treatment of the people of Dak.

The look Thrawn gave him said the Chiss still remembered and he knew perfectly well that Jorj did too. Jorj shook his head.

“Okay, so I do remember. But I can’t do anything about it yet. You can’t yet either. Why are we doing this to us? Over politics and people light years away that we might never meet?” Jorj tried, desperate.

Thrawn looked away. “Merely because I do not disapprove aloud of what goes on in this Empire, does not mean I approve. But I can’t fight it alone.” Cheunh was still just that little too complex for droids.

“You have me,” Jorj whispered, drawing close and taking his hand. “I don’t want to lose you to this Empire. That’s all.”

Thrawn squeezed his hand. “This week has been awful.”

Jorj kissed him, easing himself between the holo table with its tidy battle plans and Thrawn. “Match with me, Mitth'raw'nurudo?”

Thrawn pushed him back onto the table, falling atop Jorj and covering him in kisses. “Always, if you’ll have me, Mittheo'jorjcar'das.”

Blue-tinted holograms still projected around them, making Thrawn look ghostly. Jorj didn’t notice. The red glow from Thrawn’s eyes was far more interesting.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bedlamsbard:  
> WAIT, OH GOD, WHAT IF OBI-WAN SAW THE HOLONET BROADCAST ABOUT LUMINARA.  
> what if that was originally a trap aimed at him.  
> what if I have to go cry now.

From [10/01/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/107635598288/bedlamsbard-wait-oh-god-what-if-obi-wan-saw-the):

* * *

 

“It’s not her.” Qui-Gon’s voice was calm while Obi-Wan (not Ben, not now, not for this) had shaking hands.

Obi-Wan looked up and kriff it all he could still only see the insubstantial blue of Qui-Gon’s ghost, never any further. Sometimes he wondered what the living looked like to his old Master.

“How do you know that?” He asked, voice a harsh rasp that had nothing to do with the dry air around him. Qui-Gon folded his arms into his sleeves, an unguarded gesture that Obi-Wan hadn’t seen a Jedi make since the outbreak of war seventeen years ago. It hurt to see it made now from a man dead twenty-seven years.

“I know because I helped her to her destination. She’s not alive, Obi-Wan. What you sense is the Unifying Force yet existing in her body; look to the Living Force for the truth.”

Obi-Wan shut his eyes against a sob and tears that he couldn’t afford to shed.

“I’m sorry,” Qui-Gon added, holding his shoulder steady. “I’m so sorry.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> coatfloat:  
> That’s a nice otp you got there   
> it’d be a shame if one WAS BRUTALLY EXECUTED IN FRONT OF THE OTHER

From [11/01/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/107766495168/coatfloat-thats-a-nice-otp-you-got-there-itd):

* * *

 

Jorj wasn’t there when it happened.   
If he had been, he would no doubt have been there, by Thrawn’s side.  
In the ysalamir field with him.   
When a knife flew towards him, thrown by his own bodyguard. When a knife pierced his heart where he sat. When he bled out and whispered to Pelleaon a protest that it was so artistically done (had Jorj been there, would those have been his last words? Would he have said them to the captain, would he have said them to Jorj, would he have instead said ‘I love you’?).  
When the light left his eyes in a horrifyingly literal way.  
Had Jorj been there, likely nothing could have been done even then to stop it.   
But Jorj was a student of the Force as seen by the Aiing Tii. He could perceive the brightest rainbow. He could Flow Walk.   
And it wasn’t always intentional.   
For three months he dreamed his match’s last moments every night.   
For three months he woke screaming, sobbing.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bithedreadwolf:  
> ….. I am an angry ball of spiteful vitriol tonight and I am sorry but the world is just throwing reasons to piss me off one by one tonight.

From [14/01/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/108061849053/bithedreadwolf-i-am-an-angry-ball-of-spiteful)(ish):

* * *

 

“Do you ever dance?” Car'das asked, surprising even himself with the question, and Thrawn looked up from the computer terminal. Maris wasn’t joining them this evening, keeping Quennto out of trouble fixing something on the ship (Car'das thought that may have meant screwing out of sight of however their bedroom was bugged, but he really didn’t care; he… preferred have Thrawn alone for their language lessons).

“I don’t know that what we call ‘dancing’ you would,” Thrawn said quietly. “I have noticed that of the art forms available across this side of the Galaxy, dances across other cultures seem to share no similarities with our own.”

Car'das thought about that, then shrugged. “Not what I asked. I asked if you danced, not whether you reckoned you dance to any standard I might already recognise.”

Thrawn saved his work and stood. “Let me teach you, then.”

“You don’t dance on your own?”

“I don’t know any without a partner,” Thrawn corrected.

Chiss dancing apparently meant 'barely any body contact’. Just one arm up, palms as close as hey could get yet somehow not even grazing each other, and walking in slow circles around each other to music like Car'das had never heard before and the lights in the ceiling changing colours in a slower the morphing through the visible spectrum, up and down a room, and then a swap of arms and direction with a slight change to the key.

It was slow and it was infuriating and Car'das felt his arms ache by the third change when he missed the cue and crashed into Thrawn, hands touching. Thrawn caught him with his free arm wrapping around his waist holding him up, eyes suddenly brightening.

“Sorry,” Car'das mumbled, trying not to blush too obviously. “Uh. Your eyes are glowing more strongly, did I hurt you?”

“No,” Thrawn answered, staring at him rather more openly than he might usually. Car'das tried to push backwards, stand up straight, but that somehow involved wrapping his hand around Thrawn’s and twining their fingers together, and all the while Thrawn’s eyes glowed like a banked flame.

So Jorj kissed him.

“This isn’t usually part of the dance,” Thrawn murmured once the kiss was over, and Jorj laughed softly.

“It’s an unofficial part of Corellian dances then.”

Thrawn nodded and kissed him again. “I like you. And I like this dance of yours what do you do next?”

“We have a couple of choices. We could take our clothes off and get into bed, or sit up and talk all night, or kiss again for ages…” Jorj trailed off at Thrawn’s look.

“I don’t have a shift tomorrow,” Thrawn pointed out.

“So naked bedtime?” Jorj asked slyly.

“Bedtime with sleep clothes on and we stay up all night to talk and kiss,” Thrawn suggested breathlessly.

“Coo- er. Warm,” Jorj decided. “Sex not on the table yet?”

“Not until I know you more thoroughly.”

Jorj nodded. “Sounds good. Can I borrow some sleep clothes off you tonight?”

“Absolutely.” Thrawn kissed him again.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bedlamsbard:  
> So how many times does Kanan wake up from screaming nightmares where it’s Depa in that coffin from Rise of the Old Masters, not Luminara?  
> Let’s go with…a lot.

From [17/01/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/108305184503/bedlamsbard-so-how-many-times-does-kanan-wake):

* * *

 

 

Caleb wakes in a cold sweat, heart thumping. His blood is boiling with rage and he doesn’t care-

He feels invincible and small and scared and angry and this is all at once. It’s not ambivalence he feels, the emotions aren’t opposites but they all lead him down one path.

He wants to take his lightsaber and- _kill_-

Hera’s hand on his shoulder steadies him, grounds him.

“Love,” she whispers, and her voice is kind and gentle and Caleb breathes in a sob.

“I had the dream again,” he explains, feeling shattered. A reflected shard of who he was, perhaps. “Master Depa… Instead of…” He trails off, can’t quite say it, like saying the whole sentence will make it come true or make it hurt more.

“I guessed,” Hera says, not wry, just calm. “You breathing now?”

“Yes,” Caleb nods.

“Yuhuh. What’s your name?”

“Cal- damn.”

“That’s what I thought. You going to be okay if you meditate for a little bit while I go make you some hot chocolate and come back and we snuggle?”

Kanan takes a deep breath, and nods.

“Okay.” Hera gets up from the bed over him (he’s always slept between her and the door) and grabs her dressing gown on the way out. “You don’t forget now, I love you,” she adds at the door, and Kanan nods.

“I know.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A picture of tiny!Anakin being carried to a lesson by Kenobi.
> 
> panharmonium:  
> “You will be on time for Civics today, so help me.”  
> "It’s not my fault, master!”  
> “Anakin - ”  
> “It’s so boring - ”  
> “Dragging you there is hardly my idea of a stimulating afternoon. But alas, circumstances have necessitated the implementation of a hands-on approach. If only there were some way this could have been avoided…but oh, yes, that’s right - if one Anakin Skywalker could but arrive at a particular place at a particular time, he would not currently be subject to such rank humiliation.”

From [19/01/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/108536448688/panharmonium-you-will-be-on-time-for-civics):

* * *

 

But in his heart, Obi-Wan thinks of how much worse it could have been.

He remembers the small, scared little boy. The little boy who took extra food sometimes and hid it, who was astonished and confused when Obi-Wan had set the table and a plate in front of him with vegetables and carbs and meat and the foods a growing boy needed and he clearly hadn’t had. His mother had tried, but a slave could buy little extra to eat and a slave on Tattooine even less. And his delight at extra fruit for dessert-!  
(He’d looked around as though for guests or others to share his plate with.)

  
The little boy who cried sometimes at nights and who tried to smile in the day.

The little boy who never - never! - said no if somebody told him to do something outrageous (and there were a few moments of that, and they were horrifying).

In his heart, Obi-Wan will take the boisterous handful Padawan over the hungry and afraid slave-child. Any day.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of the various Sith!Kenobi AUs out there.

From [21/01/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/108722650163/juzzielicious-deadcatwithaflamethrower):

* * *

 

“Qui-Gon…” Obi-Wan explained - or rather, didn’t explain - with a rueful smile at Anakin. “Well. We’ve disowned Dooku for being too… Overt.”

“Overt?” Anakin burst out, and his arm ached with the phantom of a burn.

“Red makes you far too obvious. Flashy will get you killed. Please sit back down, Anakin. If you’re going to be angry for some reason, the least you could do is attempt to focus it. Unfocused rage helps nobody and gets you nowhere. It certainly won’t save Padmé.”

Anakin felt his legs collapse from under him, which at least had the side effect of letting him sit down.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> officialvarrictethras:  
> warning  
> do not, i repeat, do not  
> think about your favorite character’s face when they orgasm, especially after an agonizingly slow build of teasing and foreplay that lasts for hours  
> don’t imagine the relief in their eyes right before they close them  
> don’t…

From [02/02/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/109867708858/officialvarrictethras-warning-do-not-i):

* * *

 

“When’d you get so good at sex?” Jorj panted, and Thrawn huffed.

“I’m not good at sex.”

“That was fantastic what are you talking about have you been practicing without me or something?” Jorj asked, trying to open his eyes to see him properly.

“I’m not good at sex,” Thrawn repeated. “I’m merely… Interested in making you happy.”

Jorj took a few seconds to parse the sentence, then hit him with a pillow.

“You’ve been pretending I’m a battle you can use tactics on again, haven’t you?”

Thrawn at least had the grace to look abashed.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> elspeth-suns-champion:  
> imagine your favourite character with the most agonizingly pained expression on their face as they watch the love of their life die and there’s nothing they can do about it
> 
> bedlamsbard: *reblogs a number of gifs of this exact thing happening to Kenobi* Pick your ship, because Obi-Wan Kenobi’s life is a nightmare.

From [03/02/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/109964805098/jedibusiness-physicsandfandoms):

* * *

 

But those weren’t the Empire.

The Empire took only the last.

Everyone else was personal, or in Padmé’s case… A tragedy.

Obi-Wan (Ben for almost half his life now), had someone to blame. Someone to take revenge upon (for the Jedi, there is no revenge; Obi-Wan Kenobi may not have been a very good Jedi for a very long time, far longer than there hasn’t officially been a Jedi Order). But that last was the Empire.

For the Jedi, there is no revenge.

The Empire destroyed Alderaan.

But Obi-Wan Kenobi is dead, the Jedi nearly so (Luke is our last hope; it’s not strength within the Force, it’s how close to the edge Leia walks every day), and the Empire…

Bail-

…so Obi-Wan Kenobi helped Luke Skywalker destroy the Death Star. The most visible symbol of the Empire.

Filled with people (Stormtroopers and workers and some few rare clones and droids and some scared unknowing prisoners). Not quite a total planet’s worth.

It’s not a whole planet’s worth of people. Or animals, plants, a beautiful sky with sunrises and sunsets and history and everything that makes a planet real in the (Living) Force.

There is no revenge (you feel empty inside, you hurt and it aches and it changes nothing, it changes nothing) for the Jedi.

But there will be a return.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I took some more prompts.
> 
> norcumi : *ambles in with a bit of insomnia* both Qui-Gon AND Obi-Wan died on Naboo. The council reluctantly takes Anakin Skywalker in, on probation. Maybe Dooku’s training him, maybe he just doesn’t have someone willing to be his Master. That’s ok, Obi-Wan promised Qui he’d teach the boy, and he’s not about to let a little thing like being dead get in the way. Ghosts, presumably, though body possession and anything else creative works. Is that horrible enough? :)
> 
> Me: Both died on Naboo?
> 
> Norcumi: Yup! Maul got ‘em both!
> 
> Me: Obi-wan can’t have promised then.
> 
> Norcumi: Well, if Maul was stabbed and instead of sliced, there’s room for a last minute hail mary. Or Obi-Wan slices and dices, and Qui-Gon doesn’t realize for a good 10 minutes after death that Obi-Wan was promising him even while dying

From [06/02/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/110239435848/day-one):

* * *

 

Yoda huffed at the small boy, still running fingers along his briefly purloined fighter helmet.

The boy flinched and cowered, and Yoda sighed. He taught younglings, children this age shouldn’t have seen this much. Killed this many.

He taught children barely younger than the Queen sitting near him.

“If you’ll not take them, Master Jedi, then the people of Naboo will,” said this young girl nearly one fifty-eighth his years and perhaps more wise than he.

Yoda bowed his head in a nod. “Then stay with you, he will.”

Anakin Skywalker shuddered and nodded and Queen Amidala took his hand and Yoda knew he was dismissed from the way the security chief looked at him.

“And the first thing we’re going to do,” said Padmé firmly once the little green- OH she couldn’t think it. Two Jedi had died for her but Yoda had nearly forbidden their coming and how many more works have died from that? How many of her people would have died? Padmé took a breath, calming herself. “The first thing we’re going to do, is send someone back to Tattooine to buy your mother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Norcumi: Hah! Go PAdme! Awww yeah. Badass, SMART Padme. :D
> 
> Me: Should mention that now Sheev gets to say I’ll adopt him.
> 
> Norcumi: hurk


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A picture of Tarkin aboard the Death Star and then a picture of the Death Star blowing up.
> 
> star-vault-ofthe-heavens:  
> “You do not know what it takes to win a war. I do.”  
>  -Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin

From [07/02/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/110324914748/star-vault-ofthe-heavens-you-do-not-know-what-it):

* * *

 

“How many wars have you won, Moff?” The impudent alien asked, and Tarkin turned.

“What?”

“How many. Wars. Have you won?”

“Personally?” Tarkin sneered, and Admiral Thrawn lifted an eyebrow. “None, then.”

Thrawn tipped his head, and Tarkin seethed.

Car'das snorted beside the blue admiral with the ridiculous full name; as though a glorified and too-well-paid information gatherer could have any idea of how to fight. “Then you don’t know what it takes to win a war. No one person does.”

To his absolute irritation, Tarkin found himself reflecting on those words as he watched shards of Alderaan fly untethered through the void.

I think you will discover, Jorj Car'das, that I have every idea of what it takes to win a war.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Me: Feed me a terrible no good horrible mean Star Wars prompt. Because while I badly want to write your gorgeous fluffy bad sex nobody knows how to have sex Thrawn/Jorj, I seem to be focusing on angst/bittersweet and I choose you for tonight’s such fic
> 
> pilummurialis: Okay. Give me this:  
> Thrawn and Jorj getting in an argument over the outcome of Outbound Flight, Thrass’s death, and Thrawn misdirecting his own misunderstanding of Jedi and their politics, ending up in a rare display of emotion.   
> BASICALLY A FIGHT, GRIEF, ANGST AND MAYBE MAKE UP FLUFF?
> 
> Me: Not quite what you asked for but here goes:

From [08/02/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/110424132143/day-three):

* * *

 

Predictably, Car’das found him in Forward Visual One. It wasn’t where they’d met, but it was where they’d started to see each other as… Something that wasn’t captor and captive.

“I’ve… Car’das trailed off, stepping closer to his friend. "I’ve come to say goodbye.”

Thrawn nodded, red eyes dim as he gazed out across the stars.

Car’das but his lip. He couldn’t leave yet, not like this. “Mitth’ras’saffis was a brave man,” he said, and wondered at the past tense of his words as soon as he spoke them.

“You believe he will not return?” Thrawn asked, turning to look at him. For a split second, Car’das wondered what he saw through those eyes. Was the world tinted red, coloured differently by the perceptions of his own sight?

He’d realised early they could see well in the dark, and great distances in any light. But he hasn’t thought about colour until now.

Car’das shook his head. “The- I didn’t get to tell you. There were some survivors. One of the Jedi, she uh, asked me to go back and speak to her brother. I don’t think she would have done that if they were coming back.” Thrawn widened his eyes just slightly, and the dim glow brightened for an instant, fading just as quickly. Car’das itched to reach out and touch the slight discolouration on Thrawn’s neck, but wasn’t sure why. He did know it hadn’t been there just before he left. “What happened? To the plan?” Car’das asked miserably, and Thrawn looked away again.

“I made the mistake of not knowing how to fight a Jedi. Of underestimating them. In the event this occurs again, I shall not make the same error.”

“Thrawn?” Jorj asked softly.

“He used that… Energy field. The Force. To strangle me at a distance. Doriana was the one to redirect the attack I had laid out. The explosions were meant to take out the Vagaari ships, not Outbound Flight.”

Jorj thought about that. “I was ready to die for the plan, Thrawn. We discussed this, remember?”

“And yet I am glad you have not,” Thrawn murmured.

“Even though it’s cost your brother’s life instead? Don’t you feel anything about that?”

Thrawn flinched and looked away again; the loss of that red gaze pulled at Jorj’s heart. “I feel many things. Regret at losing my brother is one thing of many.”

“Why are you so- urh! Determined to not react? You’re not carved out of ice Thrawn. I know this. I’m your friend, let me in. Please.” Jorj wasn’t sure where his plea came from, but it worked because Thrawn’s shoulders shook.

“Come here?” Thrawn asked, and Jorj stepped closer willingly; close enough to touch the Chiss beside him, so he lifted one hand to lightly touch the bruises. “I don’t want to believe he’s gone. But… No doubt you’re right. He’s gone. But… Jorj, I suspect… I feel that the loss of my brother… Is one thing. To lose you would be quite another.”

When Jorj kissed him at last, he tasted salt on Thrawn’s lips; he decided to let Thrawn pretend it was that sodium rich diet Chiss had.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> paradox22122 suggested a Thrawn-Jorj-Vader bodyswap.
> 
> To which I replied: OH MY GODS.

From [11/02/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/110713883143/day-five):

* * *

 

Vader opened his eyes. Tinted slight red, just as usual, but the sensor readouts were missing.

Strange.

He lifted his right arm, felt flesh contract and obey him-

No pain.

He drew a breath-

That was it. There was silence to his breaths, and… The air tasted clear, crisp, unfiltered.

Darth Vader sat up and touched his face, and shuddered. Unmarked flesh, not even the scar he’d once had, that Padmé-

*

Thrawn opened his eyes, and felt blinkered, blinded. The world shrink down to a tiny pinprick of light and he could barely see-

He lifted one hand above his face to, ah, see if he could see anything…

This wasn’t his hand.

Quite specifically, this was Jorj’s hand, the scar on the back of it from a long-ago incident with a tree on Corellia, the long lines of the fingers, the way the thumb could bend backwards an almost impossible ninety degrees.

He knew and loved this hand.

But it wasn’t his.

Intriguing.

*

Jorj Car'das opened his eyes. Tinted slightly red, strange scrolling sensor readouts almost too fast for his mind to understand, his ears filled with a strange hiss…

And his body filled with overwhelming pain.

Jorj screamed.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pilummurialis prompted:  
> Jorj learning that Thrawn’s a workaholic and he has to give him extra incentive to come to bed?

From [14/02/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/110932519458/day-eight):

* * *

 

Thrawn had an array of work in front of him; naval movements (the Emperor was a consummate politician but thank the brightest suns in any sky that the navy listened more to Lord Vader’s ideas of warfare); artwork favoured by key members of the Rebellion; row upon row of data and readouts about possible new recruits to come out of Carida (Thrawn especially had his eye on that young Cadet Solo, the boy would make a fine officer one day)-

And Jorj Car'das glaring at him on the other side of his holos. “Bedtime,” he said succinctly, and Thrawn was tempted.

“Jorj, not yet.” Thrawn smiled, offering a promise. “I’ll be along when I can. I’m just in the middle of something right now.”

Jorj’s gaze flicked along the readouts, backwards though they would be to him, and snorted. “Looks to me like you’re in the middle of several somethings. Even the Emperor sleeps, Thrawn.”

“The Emperor has no need to disturb himself with the minutiae of running his empire,” Thrawn answered, turning back to his readouts distractedly.

Jorj left in a huff.

And an indeterminate amount of time later, he returned. This time he stepped up through the rings of holograms and looked at Thrawn rather more closely. Thrawn blinked at him a few times.

“You’re… Looking warmly dressed,” he managed, because Jorj had clearly managed to either find or have made an approximation of the robes a Syndic of the Eighth Family might wear closer to Csilla.

And he’d paired that with bare feet and Thrawn’s own coat.

Ktah.

“Come to bed and you can help me peel all this off,” Jorj purred, sliding onto Thrawn’s lap. Thrawn blinked again and wrapped an arm around Jorj’s waist under the coat to steady him.

“…even the corset? However did you know about that?”

Jorj shifted a little. “Maris told me, she’s the one who read all those bad romance books in your ship’s library. How the kriff do you put up with wearing these things?”

“I suppose now you know why Chaf'ormbi'tranto always looked so stiff and uptight, I don’t think he ever really found the knack to doing them up and unlike me, never had the excuse of uniform to avoid it.” Thrawn kept running his fingers up and down Jorj’s back, marvelling that Jorj had even thought to do this.

Jorj squirmed. “Yeah, well. Thrawn, take me to bed right now.”

Thrawn smirked, narrowing his eyes to slits. “As you like.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bedlamsbard:
> 
> kablob17 replied to your post:Oh gosh I suddenly want deaged Kanan fic because…  
> “deaged”?  
> Just imagine the hilarity of 14-year-old proper Jedi Caleb being confronted with the Ghost’s crew. But then the infinite sadness of, you know, the post-RotS universe. Possibly he overhears Hera and Zeb arguing about whether or not they can tell him what happened or if that will just make things worse. ”Maybe we can fix it before he has to find out!”

From [16/02/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/111166879738/bedlamsbardkablob17-replied-to-your-postoh-gosh):

* * *

 

Caleb knew something was wrong because when he woke up, a strange Twi’lek (he could feel the lekku draped over his shoulder, too heavy to be a Togrutra’s montrals) was bent over him, stroking his hair back. Probably female, Caleb decided.

Anxious. Not a Jedi.

Critically, not a clone trooper either.

“And you just found him like this,” she asked, and to the side he heard a rustle of fur beneath fabric.

“Looks like him, but shorter. Smells like him.”

“Zeb-”

“Had his lightsaber,” the alien, Zeb, added in a rumble. “Hera, I don’t know where Kanan is, but…”

“Ezra’s not making any sense. Keeps saying that’s definitely him, and something about him being a luminous being. I think the kid’s maybe having a nervous breakdown.” A different female voice, closer to his own age this time.

There. Caleb pinned it down, that feeling…

He couldn’t sense his Master. Or any Jedi. The Force was there all around him, but those who made it sing and thrum with life… Gone.

Well then.

He could be patient. Bide his time, wait this out, find some clone troops and go home.

Maybe Master Depa was dead and it was psychic backwash?

The alternative…

That was too horrific to contemplate.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pilummurialis prompted:  
> OH. Thrawn takes Jorj to a social/ball whatever, and he’s mildly worried Jorj won’t handle himself well, but surprises everyone by being an excellent dancer and has no issue handling himself on the floor.

From [17/02/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/111267600083/day-whatever-ill-work-it-out-later):

* * *

 

  
In retrospect, Thrawn should not have been at all concerned about Jorj knowing how to work a room.

It should have been far too obvious what Thrawn’s real worry should have been.

“Jorj, what-”

Jorj wrapped him in a hug - in public! - and pulled him close and swayed with him gently, and hat was… Ktah, it was always nice to hold Jorj but why was everybody else doing the same with their own partners?

“Just be glad I’m going to get you off the floor during one of the real dances,” Jorj mumbled in his ear.

“Dare I ask why, ch'eo?” Thrawn asked softly. Jorj chuckled.

“I know how you get about handholding.”

Thrawn coughed sharply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (In greater retrospect, Thrawn should really have been aware of what was likely to occur the instant somebody asked to cut in between himself and Jorj, however that was still in the not-too-distant future for them at this point.)


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I brush off an old RP character for her purposes in this Fic.

From [22/02/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/111708423703/day-again-whatever):

* * *

 

The first thing Caleb knew he had to do, was cut off his own braid. The deaths of thousands of Jedi in his mind, their screams and their fear and sometimes - rarely - their acceptance, he knew he had to cut it himself. Master- her friend, the frivolous Jedi with her Padawan with hair dyed every colour he could make it, had laughed lightly at his braid and tugged it lightly the first time they’d met. No braid on her Padawan, and Caleb had nearly jumped out of his own skin when she’d touched him. Then Master had introduced her (‘Fie’r’, and Caleb misheard it the first time as ‘fear’), and the way they’d managed to sneak up on him made more sense. And then he’d asked about the hair, and Jacob had blinked at him, then at his Master, like he wanted to tell but didn’t dare. (Caleb wondered if this trick of theirs had worked). In the end, his Master had answered for him. “My Padawan wants to grow one, but we’re not even looking at it until the war’s over.” Her gaze became far-off then snapped back to the present. “We don’t… Jedi aren’t wanted where we go. Maybe after the war I’ll get more Temple-bound, Jacob can study his healing, and I can get my flimseywork done. But right now, if we’re caught, the first thing they look for after a lightsaber is a padawan’s braid.” She wound her fingers through the fabrics of her sleeves, definitely not Jedi robes, and sighed. And now Caleb held his lightsaber, and shuddered. The first thing they looked for was a padawan’s braid… After a lightsaber. But he’d always been good at puzzles. Perhaps he could just… Take his lightsaber apart? The component pieces on their own weren’t all that strange, the only strange item was the crystal at its heart. And then he remembered the twin necklaces the pair had worn. Lightsaber crystals, snapped into place in a holder and held on chains at their necks, like simple jewellery for simple traders. Hidden yet so obvious, and thus hidden all the more. Caleb looked at his lightsaber. He could… Probably disguise the majority of the blade as a welding torch. That would be a start.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hamelin-born:  
> …you have delivered unto me the mental image of Kanan in an Imperial Officer’s Uniform and I *cannot get rid of it.* *drools*. Thing is, for Kanan - as Caleb, he was *literally* a Republic Officer. He *knows* how this works.
> 
> bedlamsbard:  
> Kanan walking into the lounge on the Ghost after changing into a stolen Imperial officer’s uniform, kind of slapping the uniform cap against his thigh. “So, how do I look?” And the others are just, yeah, okay, I guess they’ll buy it, maybe just stay in the back and try not to draw attention to yourself. And Kanan pulls the cap on, and literally everything changes. Posture, presence, everything. Zeb and Sabine are going for their guns before they manage to register that it’s still Kanan, because they don’t know what he just did but if asked they’d swear up and down an Imperial just walked into the room. And Kanan uses every single inch of his height to look down at them and says, in a crisp, pitch-perfect Core accent, “So. This is where you Rebel scum have been hiding.” And everyone just stares at him like, where the fuck did that come from? before Kanan drops it and goes, “So, how about now?”

From [11/03/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/113320075183/bedlamsbard-hamelin-born-replied-to-your):

* * *

 

Hera sighs, and her heart breaks a little just looking at him.

It’s not the sight of her Kanan in a uniform. It’s the way he stands, the way he talks. He’s going to be working the Coruscanti out of his voice for weeks. His stance is the way he stands when it’s early in the morning and he’s just finished his meditations, as though he’s rooted to the ground and all the more powerful for it.

Often she forgets that Kanan used to be Caleb. But it’s so rare that she’s faced with the reality that Caleb was a child soldier in an organised military.

But she stands and gives him a bright smile for the others that Kanan sees right through. “I told you you’d make a fine Imperial Cadet,” she jokes, and Kanan nods slowly.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bedlamsbard:  
> Do you think that Mon Mothma, circa RotJ, ever stands and looks around and wonders how she came to be the last one standing, out of her circle of friends from her early senatorship? Onaconda Farr, murdered during the Clone Wars. Padme Amidala, murdered at the start of the Empire. Bail Organa, who almost made it, murdered along with his entire planet. Does she ever look around and wonder, “Why me and not one of the others?”

From [09/04/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/115918305543/bedlamsbard-do-you-think-that-mon-mothma-circa):

* * *

 

Onaconda… well. That was war, but somehow it felt cleaner.  
  
Padme, that bright creature. Mon had seen her in the tapes as a 14 year old Queen of her planet, trembling with fury and yet her voice as steady and solid as a rock. One day she’d been healthy and vibrant and alive - and the next… and the next she was dead and nobody knew really how or why, only that she and her children were dead with her.  
  
Bail- that was an ache in her heart that lodged there and stuck every time she looked at Leia and wanted to take her by the arm gently and say ‘I’m sorry dear girl you sacrificed so much and your father would have been so proud of you’.  
  
(She refuses to think about Garm. He could be alive, he could be dead, he doesn’t matter. She keeps telling herself this and one day maybe she’ll believe it.)


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is out of order. One of those prompting things.  
> jaclynhyde asked: Quiet Me, Thrawn/Jorj

From [11/11/2014](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/102307988553/quiet-me-thrawnjorj):

* * *

 

“Who did this? I’ll kill them.”  
Thrawn opened one eye to focus on Jorj in all his furious glory.   
Voss sighed. “Car’das, while I appreciate the sentiment, in this case the threat is seditious.”  
Thrawn shut his eye and fell asleep again.

The next time he awoke, he’d been recently pulled out of bacta (judging from the foul taste in his mouth) and Jorj was still there, though Voss wasn’t.   
“I suppose you’re about to tell me not to?” Jorj said steadily, no preamble.   
Thrawn spoke once the breather mask was removed.  
“I’d rather you stayed at my side, or found all you could on the battle I objected to, as I’ll no doubt be required to redo it after those fools have made a mess of it.”  
“I’m not a nursemaid, Thrawn.”  
“I’m not asking you to be,” Thrawn spoke softly, and lifted his hand.  
Jorj took it.  
“You’re an idiot,” he whispered.   
“The lightning was a surprise,” Thrawn admitted, and found himself being lightly jostled as Jorj got into the bed.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My contribution to a thread about Anakin calling Kenobi 'mom.'

From [30/04/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/117719914363/bedlamsbard-alyyks-bedlamsbard):

* * *

 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to save you Mom,” Anakin mumbles in his sleep. Obi-Wan’s upper arm is still in its bacta-cast, and the ache echoes through his bones, keeping him just barely awake enough to hear; the medic said not to do that pain blocking trick, something about checking for parasites in the ground because compound fractures were wonderful things. Anakin exhausted himself saving countless clones from the avalanche that had snapped Obi-Wan’s arm.

So here he is, awake and listening to his Padawan apologise to him. He’d be a Knight soon, and he deserved it, but Obi-Wan wishes Anakin’s childhood could have been a little longer.

“It’s all right Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispers. “I’m fine.”

Anakin’s asleep still, and doesn’t hear a word of it.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The comic page from either Star Wars or Darth Vader where Vader's going 'I have a son'.

From [04/06/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/120678774813/catie-does-things-this-should-be-a-really):

* * *

 

Does this mean Ana- Vader! - watched vids of her funeral? To see if it was true?

(She was alive. I felt it.)

She was beautiful and she was dead. This was a State Funeral, this was a Naboo funeral. Naboo liked vidscreens for the colour they offered, over the faster yet blue technology of holos.

(I felt it.)

The flat image from the vidscreens was of a Queen, pregnant and alone. Her hair loose and curled the way it had been the night she told him, the evening she’d married him, the day they’d gone to her home and her family had accepted him - not just a Jedi Padawan, not merely her bodyguard, but the hero to the Naboo he’d been since he’d been nine and free for the only time in his life and he’d flown into a droid ship with the Force at his side and made his first kills.

(She was alive.)

Her fingers were wrapped around a necklace with a pendant made of Japor Wood. As though she still grasped the heart of the boy who’d fallen in love with her and made it, a gift freely given by a free child. It will bring you good fortune, that child had told the girl-Queen.

(No.)


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bedlamsbard:
> 
> Today’s Wookieepedia surprise: ZEB IS THIRTY-NINE????

From [17/06/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/121730823128/bedlamsbard-todays-wookieepedia-surprise-zeb):

* * *

 

Garazeb Orrelios hasn’t seen more than sixty dust seasons when the Honour Guard accepts him into their ranks. His hands close around his Bo-rifle, and he feels so young surrounded by all these people, his fur barely growing in on his face in tufts. One day he’ll have cleanly-groomed fur, he promises himself (a promise he manages to keep; this is not vanity, this is not pride, this is the importance tradition holds when there are few to recall what such traditions mean).

But he stands to attention and feels his chest swell with pride every day he puts on his uniform and goes to work.

His pride remains unshattered when people comment that they’re only accepting recruits so young because the Galaxy is at war.

He practices with his weapon every day, pretends he’s saving the life of someone of note.

The Empire has other plans.

The cry goes out across the stars, but there are too many others making the same call. The newborn Empire, not even a single dust season to its name, invades and steals and raids because there is wealth in the dusts of Lasan. Material wealth that a Lasat wouldn’t care for, but a human…

But the Empire…

The Honour Guard go to war upon their home soil, and when help arrives from Kashyyyk, it’s almost too-little too-late. It doesn’t turn or even stem the tide of destruction; it only saves a few hundred thousand, of a planet once numbered in trillions.

(The Wookiees stand by their sides and call them ‘hairless brothers’ in jest, and Garazeb wears the words with what little scraps of pride he has left. Thirty-five or so seasons later, he’ll recall the words of those Wookiee Warriors, and forget his own words in the moment.)

The Empire takes his planet, takes his seasons, takes his rank, takes his name, takes his pride. Honour Guard Garazeb Orrelios experiences his sixty-third dusting when the few of his people who remain are torn apart by Ion Disruptors and his world screams and dies; Zeb has already turned twenty-five when they try to kill what few tattered pieces remain of him too.

Not for the first time.

Not for the last either.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A gifset of Luke saying 'I want to come with you to Alderaan. There's nothing here for me now. I want to learn the ways of the Force and become a Jedi like my father' to Kenobi interspersed with Anakin and Kenobi's last meeting on Mustafar.

From [19/06/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/121902202893/blimington-bear-martininamerica-oh-shit):

* * *

 

For the Skywalkers, pain and transition always seems to come with fire, with searing pain, with the world turned red.

With a laser bolt or the slice of a lightsaber, or the endless burning of a world in flux.

Tattooine  
Geonosis  
Mortis  
Mustafar

And in its own way, Naboo. A bright and beautiful world, with red pain at its core. No molten metal at its centre, but it had burned the hearts of Obi-Wan and Anakin both.

Tattooine had once been safe to hide Luke. Alderaan once for Leia.

Both safe, once. Both destroyed. Both burned.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> xenadd:  
> Ok, so to be honest the thought of Vader trundling (as … much as he.. trundles…) around the galaxy with a portable body disposal is amazing. They’ve all seen the bodies when he has his ‘moments’. So imagine the number of bodies they HAVEN’T seen.
> 
> bedlamsbard:  
> I assume the janitorial staff HATES Vader. “Ugh, another dead admiral. How many is it this week?” “Aren’t they going to run out eventually?”
> 
> Imagine the janitors at the Imperial Complex on Lothal during Call to Action. “…is that a freaking head. ARE THOSE TWO HEADS.” “Wait, isn’t that our boss?”

From [20/06/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/121955668158/bedlamsbardxenadd-replied-to-your-postxenadd):

* * *

 

“Lord Vader, while you are aboard my ship, I would ask that you maintain a sense of decorum.”

“Meaning what, Admiral?” Vader asked, and since his tone was no more dangerous than the vocal modulator always made it seem, Thrawn turned to regard him calmly.

“Meaning, my Lord, that I am in command. I will defer to your wisdom in many things, but I will not permit the wholesale murder of my people, merely because they have brought you distressing news. Am I clear?”

Vader stared back at him, and Thrawn saw the flutter of eyelids behind red sensors, wondered not for the first time what human eyes would find in that mask.

“As you wish,” Vader intoned, and Thrawn dipped his head in an abbreviation of a bow. Perhaps a thank you.

Then looked away. “They need to actually make a mistake before you kill them.”


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pileofsith:  
> *a picture of the maketh tua tag actually having things in it*  
> OH LOOK, a lot of new posts about my most fave female character in Star Wars, whom so few people care even a little about.  
> This is the first and last time I’ll ever see this happen.  
> Should I go enjoy it? Darn I need comfort, my heart hurts.

From [22/06/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/122114267223/pileofsith-oh-look-a-lot-of-new-posts-about-my):

* * *

 

Maketh Tua celebrated her fourteenth Life Day the day after Clone War - then the Separatist War, for a few short weeks - was announced. Two days after the attack on Geonosis by a group of Jedi.

It was all her friends wanted to talk about at her party, until she said it wasn’t fair. Then they returned to discussing their plans for the day.

None of them realised she meant it wasn’t fair that the Jedi has attacked in the first place.

–

Maketh Tua was a little over seventeen and showing signs of becoming an excellent politician, if the way she and her friends could never manage to stay in trouble for long was any indication.

This was the year the Galactic Empire was formed, and she surprised her Careers Advisor by walking in to her office two months before the year’s end and joyfully handing over her letter of admission to the Imperial Academy. The advisor had run a finger over the flimsiplast and given her the bravest smile he could manage.

“If this is what you want to do,” he said simply, and Maketh nodded earnestly.

–

Maketh found her classes wonderful. Save languages, of course, but one simply couldn’t be skilled at everything. Year’ later she would look back on her time at the Academy as her fondest memories, surrounded by people who agreed with her political stances, rather than having to hide them.

Her first initiative once she entered political service was building affordable housing on her home planet. People remembered that fondly.

–

People remembered Maketh Tua fondly.


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My contribution to a terrible thread starting with:  
> malak501:  
> Here’s a thought, how different do you think the Star Wars universe would have been if Palpatine was killed in some unforeseen event and order 66 never took place ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I’m getting ready for work and really don’t have the time for the next half hour or so to write out everything for this FIC that you lot have gotten swirling through my head now.
> 
> But.

From [22/07/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/124730955393/amemait-dogmatix-herecomesthespiderbutt):

* * *

 

On the first night, there was an assassination attempt upon the new Chancellor. Which rather cinched the decision for a number of those who had pondered of the new one had the strength of the old. After all, the Separatists certainly felt threatened enough.

Fortunately, the new chancellor was entertaining a Jedi guest at the time, and so her life was saved.

Not the most auspicious of starts to the Chancellory of Padmé Amidala.

Of course when her pregnancy was announced some few weeks later, some decried her in public but still more flocked to support her. A mother to her children was the best leader to the Galaxy, some claimed old proverbs went.

“It is hard and difficult to fight for war,” replayed her maiden speech across cantinas throughout the Galaxy. “It is yet more hard and more difficult to fight for peace. The battle before us is arduous. But as your new Chancellor, I shall not stray from it. And in time a new hope will emerge.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Future scenes will have Ventress and Ahsoka being awesome and Anakin attempting to resign the order to become Padmé’s fulltime bodyguard and Ki Adi Mundi going fucking hells Skywalker we know. Or at least I know. The others are idiots. Here’s how to balance work and family.)


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> amarielah asked bedlamsbard: So, an AU idea just hit me and it's made me emotional. What if, due to some shenanigans, Anakin had taken on Caleb as his new apprentice after Ahsoka left? I AM GOING TO SPEND THE NEXT FEW HOURS THINKING ABOUT THE WAYS THIS COULD BREAK MY HEART.
> 
> bedlamsbard:  
> I feel like Anakin and Caleb might have actually driven each other insane.

From 31/10/2015:

* * *

 

Caleb looked up at Knight Skywalker, whose shoulders were slumping as though the weight of the Galaxy rested on them.

He tugged his hair sharply.

“No,” Knight Skywalker sighed, a puff of air, a denial.

“Master Yoda sent me, I’m your new Pada-”

“No,” Knight Skywalker repeated, a slight edge of annoyance in his voice. “Captain Rex!” He snapped. One Trooper tipped his head slightly to indicate acknowledgement. “Take this… Padawan to Obi-Wan,” Knight Skywalker ground out, and Captain Rex nodded, placed a hand on his shoulder.

And took him away.


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bedlamsbard:  
> The mental image of tiny padawan Dooku is blowing my mind.

From [28/12/2015](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/136073183348/bedlamsbard-the-mental-image-of-tiny-padawan):

* * *

 

“Padawan,” Yoda offers, and the Youngling kneels beside him and shuts his eyes and is almost surprised by the hug when it comes. Holds onto the proud moment.

“Padawan,” Yoda chides, and the Padawan crouches down, looks his wiser Master in the eye. Accepting the lesson.

“Padawan,” Yoda teases, and the Knight looks down at his older Master, catching his eye and grinning. Accepting the memories.

“Padawan,” Yoda reminds, and the Master stares into his wizened Master’s eyes, then looks away still stern. Acknowledging and yet not.

“Padawan,” Yoda pleads, and the Count hesitates at the softness in his once-Master’s gaze, then shakes his head and leaves. Acknowledgement still but refusal nonetheless.

“Padawan,” Yoda warns, and the Sith glares down at him, haughty and proud and somehow full of unearned hate. Dismisses the once-fond title.


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An anon asked jaclynhyde:  
> Sod it. Thrawn gets back from the Unknown Regions, Pellaeon having been assigned to go with him after seducing a senior officer's wife or something, and finds the First Order. Cue one very annoyed Chiss throwing his hands up in the air and declaring that that's it, he's going back to the Unknown Regions - oh, and you're welcome for wiping out the Vong.
> 
> jaclynhyde:  
> I would pay cash money to see Thrawn have to deal with Kylo Ren

From 25/01/2016:

* * *

 

“Warlord,” Hux greeted, polite to a fault.

Thrawn nodded, equally polite. “General,” he replied, taking the mend to glance about the hangar, knowing the human couldn’t tell where he was looking.

Interesting TIE design, for one thing.

The troops flanking them as they walked in silence were theoretically Stormtroopers, but wore strangely modified helmets. Thrawn’s own troops, filing out the shuttle behind him, had stuck with the classic design, though made from higher quality material and better-fitting helmets.

It had been a revelation to go through the old Clone Wars files and discover that the Phase II body armour was so much more advanced than the later-issue Stormtrooper kit.

“Our Stormtrooper commander, Captain Phasma,” the General introduced, and that too was interesting. Thrawn regarded the likely-human beneath a chrome-plated shell. Possibly even repurposed ship’s hull. Very heavy. Impressive that whoever was under there could carry the weight so gracefully.

“Grand Admiral,” Phasma greeted, the polite disinterest of someone who knew who he was, but did not consider him part of her forces.

And that too was interesting. That the General was not in command of the ground troops but that this Captain was - unless there had been a reversal of naval and army ranks while Thrawn had not been present, surely the General should not have introduced her this way.

“I’ll introduce you to Kylo Ren, our direct representative from Supreme Leader Snoke, once we’re at the conference room, Warlord,” General Hux added, clearly suppressing the urge to say ‘sir’. Interesting. Thrawn hadn’t made time for the man’s father - his ideas had been in nearly every way unsound. This Hux might have absorbed the teachings of his father - Thrawn had read his briefing packets for this voyage, had been appalled at the implementation of those methods on this base - but for some reason the man wanted to also impress Thrawn.

Which could prove either useful or annoying. Time would tell.

Behind him, Khabarakh sniffed the air and shifted. Also interesting. Thrawn gestured and a Stormtrooper - 'Grappler’, if he recalled the shift rotation for this duty correctly - stepped forward, ysalamir on its travelling nutrient container held in his arms.

“You understand if I take a few precautions of my own, of course,” Thrawn drawled, accepting the   
ysalamir and curling the flexible material over his shoulders like an absurd scarf. The ysalamir blinked lazily in is peripheral vision.

Phasma tipped her head, disdain writ large in body language amplified rather than hidden by her armour. Hux merely blinked. “If you wish it,” he said aloud, the barest hint of confusion in his voice.

Then let him be confused, Thrawn decided.

“Khabarakh,” he spoke, ignoring his hosts. “Stay with the ships. Aurek company will travel with me.”

“Of course,” Hux said swiftly, clearly relieved to be dealing directly with one fewer alien.

“As you wish, Grand Admiral Thrawn,” Khabarakh answered, clearly unhappy but appreciating the reasons.

The noghri had even less desire to deal with his people’s False Hope than Thrawn did himself.

“Lead the way, General,” Thrawn ordered.


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My continuation of a terrible painful wonderful fic by notbecauseofvictories. To which I said 'Ow fuck (and I want to make it worse. I’m going to make it worse.)'

From [10/02/2016](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/139043326933/idk-if-youre-still-taking-writing-requests-but):

* * *

 

Chewie opens the compartment, once meant to smuggle gems. They’d rarely smuggled gems but when they had, Han had always stashed them in the same place, never stashing them anywhere that might reek of spice to any sniffers brought aboard to search.

He doesn’t know why he opens it, doesn’t know why he feels he has to go through each and every hidey hole the Falcon has, looking for anything, everything.

He opens the gem compartment, expecting to find it empty.

He finds an old, scratched holomobile.

He holds the base in two great palms, as though the object’s mass is as much as its weight.

Chewbacca takes a breath that fills his lungs, stretches his stomach with the movement. It aches across every scar he carries. The act of drawing breath, once so simple, makes him feel old. He’s spent a quarter of his life now with one voice and scent at his side, smiling and shooting and laughing and sometimes crying.

Leia finds him there, in the Medbay with the gem compartment open and holding a child’s toy, and she leans against his good side, breathing against his fur, the way Han had just twice.

He allows it. He’s seen humans hug and sob and break before.

“I’ve missed both of them every day,” she whispers, steel still in her voice and the scent of ozone and engine repair in her hair.

“Tell me?” She asks. Rey had shook and been held but hadn’t spoken. Finn hadn’t woken.

Chewbacca knows this. Chewbacca also knows that to tell her would be to leave her broken.

So he tells her the truth, from a certain point of view.

She smiles and accepts. Smiles at the toy in his hand, accepts it when he hands it to her.

“I remember this,” she whispers, the tears in her eyes tearing at Chewbacca’s heart the way Ben had torn through Han.

He nods. She pulls back.

The Falcon hides much more, but they work through it together.


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Took a prompt.  
> arioch1530 prompted: A star destroyer is in atmo. Why? (Bonus points if the answer satisfies your boyfriend.)
> 
> me: Point the first All Star Destroyers satisfy my boyfriend immensely. Even when they are in atmo and therefore pissing both of us off.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Point the second  
> We’ve decided that most of the ones that are in Rebels and TOR and so forth (you know, the ones that aren’t a broken mess of atmospheric-entry-related destruction) are actually smaller ships made in the shape of really tiny SD, purely for the intimidation factor. Otherwise they couldn’t get in so close to the planet as to be used for torches without being REALLY LOUD enough to hear the repulsorlifts and engine and everything involved in making the damn thing fly. And that’s without the problems of making it even capable of sanely getting into atmosphere. Imagine a plane overhead, really high. You know it’s up there but you hear it before you see it. That, only the size of a Star Destroyer. Point the third  
> The Star Destroyer in atmo in question is the one adorning Nikolai’s new boxers. This satisfies Nik a great deal, and we have already made the ‘Nik don’t fuck the Star Destroyer’ jokes on the subject. (That was a rotten prompt well done I love it.)
> 
> My boyfriend:  
> Oh my Gods. XD
> 
> So then I wrote more.

From [17/02/2016](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/139477397008/ernperorhux-amemait-arioch1530-amemait):

* * *

 

Kylo Ren is at the controls.

Perhaps more accurately, Kylo Ren has smashed the controls.

Perhaps even more accurately, a child whose name was stolen and replaced a long time ago has destroyed the controls.

It starts like this.

The ship is crashing into a planet. There are multiple reasons for this to be occurring. On this occasion, the planet in question is the Snoke base - because this is not one creature but many, loud as a whisper quiet as a roar inside the minds of those they harm.

There are a thousand calls inside his head to tell him that there is no planet before him. That his eyes and senses and the screens before him are wrong.

There are a thousand calls inside his head and none of them are worth hearing.

The Star Destroyer is crashing into the atmosphere and the reason is that Kylo Ren is at the controls. Kylo Ren has smashed the controls to keep anybody else from stopping this. Or perhaps someone else has. In either case, it shall take them too long to get one of the secondary bridges online.

Size is one of those things which does not actually matter within the Force. Kylo knows this now. He recognises this as intrinsically as he can recognise that what he has learned from the Snoke is not the truth of the Force. It is a lie, a manipulation, a subversion of something… Incredible.

That size does not matter to the Force is one thing.

That size does matter to a base on a planet when there is a ship named the Finaliser crashing into it is another.

Quite possibly, everybody aboard will die.

Quite probably, Kylo Ren will die.

Perhaps a child will live. Perhaps not.

Attachment is one of those things which does not actually matter within the Force - and that includes the concept being attached to living within a physical form. So it is this slim possibility through which Ben Organa might live.

It starts like this, and it in fact ends like this.

A Star Destroyer is crashing into a base on a planet far away from the bright centre of the galaxy.  
There is a man named Kylo Ren at the controls. There is a child called Ben Organa at the controls.  
There are no controls.  
They are in control.  
Possibly there will be no survivors to tell of it.  
Absolutely it is the correct thing to do.


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A gifset of Princess Leia in her Rebels appearance:  
> Officer: All for your safety, Miss.  
> Leia: It's "Your Highness".

From [02/03/2016](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/140320220578/royalty-is-a-weapon-leia-knows-this-for-all-that):

* * *

 

Royalty is a weapon. Leia knows this, for all that she denies and denies and denies that she’s any different, that her privilege makes her special.

But someone looks at her and says ‘Miss’.

There are four ways to address her. Five, for certain species.

Your (Royal) Highness. Princess. Ma'am. (Milady). Leia.

NEVER 'Miss’, unless she’s incognito.

She thinks one day she’d like someone she likes to call her 'Miss’ and be actually talking to her. As a friend.

For the first time, Leia feels a personal fury rise in her throat. It’s not that this man is beneath her, it’s that he has dared to call her something that he hasn’t earned.

Absolutely not.

“It’s 'your highness’,” she corrects, her title able to put distance between the person he’s decided to treat her as and the Princess she’s been raised to be.


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pangur-bann asked bedlamsbard: What is your opinion on the Friendship Rock in Rebels canon?
> 
> bedlam had a long and eloquent reply as befits bedlam because she's awesome.
> 
> I do love Bedlam's posts so much.  
> And then I wrote a fic because I had this... idea about the friendship rock.

From [09/04/2016](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/142499971398/what-is-your-opinion-on-the-friendship-rock-in):

* * *

 

The rock is still warm, still faintly glowing. Sometimes Kallus picks it up, turns it over in his hands on a night when it’s clear he’s not going to be sleeping any time soon.

Then he cleans his Bo-Rifle, polishes the brightwork, tests its releases. It’s decidedly non-regulation, but he is, very technically, an officer, so nobody raises an eyebrow. (One ship’s captain, he’s heard, carries a literal sword during battle.)

His quarters were always spartan before. Somehow the rock brightens them. Sometimes he covers it at nights, but usually the glow is strangely comforting. When it’s dark and he can’t quite sleep for the light it gives off but he feels too tired or too comfortable to get up and do anything about it, the rock makes him think, oddly, of Minister Tua. The way she’d smiled at him. The people of Lothal still missed her, he’d heard.

He’d almost asked her for a date, once. Before-

Tarkin, and the mess that followed.

(“Call me Maketh,” she’d giggled, dancing across the room in his arms at that ridiculous cocktail party the night before Empire Day. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks were flushed, he’d almost asked her- he’d lost his chance.)

This night he closes his hand around the rock, wonders again what it’s made from.

It’s still warm, like Zeb’s hand still wrapped around it, neither of them asking the other if Kallus could, if he might…

Rebellion, Kallus pondered then.

Rebellion, Kallus considers again, dropping the rock from one hand to another and then dropping himself back onto the bed, tucking under the blankets and holding the rock between his hands like a talisman.


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tabbytyler:
> 
> Sometimes I like to stop and think about, like, the wayyyy background people in a fictional society.
> 
> Like what are teenage girls who aren’t jedi Apprentices or Queens doing in the Star Wars universe?
> 
> Like are they using holonet tumblr to create melodramatic gifsets of their favorite war heroes? Are they waxing poetic about the lady leaders of their time? Tagging pictures of Anakin Skywalker or Poe Dameron’s hair with #stahp #letmelive ?
> 
> I really hope out there in a Galaxy Far far away there are teenage girls arguing about the color of General Kenobi’s eyes and making massive collages of Leia’s hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes on both counts. And everything in between.

From [30/04/2016](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/143625418038/tabbytyler-sometimes-i-like-to-stop-and-think):

* * *

 

Hermione works in Dex’s Diner and it’s the first good thing in her life.   
(It takes her years but finally she hugs him; he holds still because he knows she’s scared, terrified, but she hugs him and she realises she’s completely free.)  
She stands at the heights of Coruscant rather than the underbelly; Jedi walk through the doors and get greeted with hugs; Dex’s wasaka berry pie is famous (one night she serves at a catered party for clones and Jedi. One introduces himself as Fives, another as Cody, and then Dex walks past carrying Obi-Wan in one huge hand and another clone on the other and Hermione can’t help it she laughs harder than she has in her life. Fives holds her up when she leans on him, laughing with her).  
Hermione dares to take Dex’s hand a week after she meets the Jedi that first time and he lets her, his huge fingers not engulfing or overwhelming, just resting while she wraps her whole hand around his index finger. He smiles that huge grin of his, and she doesn’t let go.   
Dex lets her get as close as she dares, lets her skitter away if she needs to, when she needs to or wants to.   
Two years into the war Hermione asks him, and Dex explains softly about Besalisk physiological differences to humans and asks if she’s sure (Hermione takes his hand again, rests all her fingers on one of his).  
You make me feel safe, she whispers, and he smiles a new smile just for her, and nods, and hugs her while he gives her a yes.   
(Dex’s hugs are always warm. Hermione decides she loves that the most.)


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> markwatnae asked poplitealqueen:  
> Ok so I like to think that Qui-Gon and Dooku had a decent relationship as master and Padawan but maybe had a falling out after Qui-Gon was knighted. so when Dooku hears Qui-Gon is dead he feels like a rug has been ripped out from under him and he feels this disturbing emptiness in his chest for weeks. (According to me) he harbored a secret attachment to Qui-Gon as a boy and young man but forgot all about it in his anger after he became a knight. Now he remembers how much he loved him. Ouch.
> 
> poplitealqueen:  
> Dude, I agree on all those points. (Except maybe the falling out. I kinda like to think they remained friends, even if they rarely talked. But it’s a rather moot point. Dooku would be heartbroken either way).  
> What do you think their falling out would have been over? I’m actually kinda curious!  
> I especially like the bit that Dooku developed an attachment to Qui-Gon. I fully fuckin’ agree on that. Not in the romantic sense (unless that’s how you roll, in which case more power to ya) but in the platonic, brother and brother type deal.  
> -cont

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cont-  
> It’s funny, technically they’re closer in age than Anakin and Obi-Wan. The bromance would be so strong.  
> And the PAIN. Ooof. Palpatine wouldn’t even need to coerce him anymore at that point. Dooku would hop right in.

From [08/06/2016](http://amemait.tumblr.com/post/145588631863/ok-so-i-like-to-think-that-qui-gon-and-dooku-had-a):

* * *

 

Dooku is in his room when it happens. It’s a rare event, him being at the Temple in the first place, but his negotiations went well and… Well, he needed to make a full report to the Council and to the Senate and so he is here, at home, where there is a soft sense of disquiet-

Ki had spoken exceedingly softly of Qui-Gon’s most recent performance before the Council. A too-old boy his latest stray, and the worry of a Sith-

So the council member had come to him, knowing that Dooku’s quiet specialisation was in histories and Dark Artefacts (not exactly deliberately. After coming across three of the things across three unconnected and actually Diplomatic missions in a row, Dooku had sighed and accepted the Force’s Will the same way he’d accepted Qui-Gon when the boy arrived). Dooku promised to look into it.

Then he’d sat with Sifo for a time, his old friend delighted to see him multiple times over. He forgets, sometimes, but his healer is always glad to see Dooku there for a visit; when Dooku is there, he forgets less. Dooku can feel his Pair Bond with his oldest friend flicker and strengthen and fade, all throughout their conversation.

Sifo places his hand over Dooku’s, and they discuss old things as though they are brand new.

Jocasta visits with Sifo while he’s there, and together they make tea and laugh well into the night and Dooku feels their Bonds to each other and to him and doesn’t begrudge it quite so much as he might pretend. Qui-Gon’s strength in the Living Force and the calls of its strays and attachments hadn’t nurtured itself.

The moment hits him Iike a punch to the gut he hasn’t been unprepared for since he was a Youngling. One second he is sitting and talking with Jocasta and Sifo, the next he’s on the floor and the healer is dividing her attention desperately between himself and Sifo, who’s convulsing in the way that always makes a cold ball of fear settle in the pit of Dooku’s stomach.

From Dooku, Qui-Gon also learned a certain kind of attachment.

Jocasta helps Dooku up, dusts him off when he makes no move to. Jocasta holds his hand and squeezes it, tears in her eyes as she tries to concentrate on Sifo, who eventually falls still.

The healer sets herself back and breathes, then turns wide eyes upon them both. Thanks them. Dooku barely hears her, he’s light years away, a numbness ringing in his senses. He strokes Sifo’s hair back with trembling fingers as Jocasta sits beside the other Jedi and nods at Dooku with more regality than a thousand royals on a thousand worlds, and then Dooku is running, practically flying, away from his Pair Bonds, up to his Master’s rooms.

“Qui-Gon,” he pants out when he reaches his destination and it’s incredible he was moving so fast as to actually be out of breath.

“Felt it, I have,” Yoda murmurs.

“The boy. I’ll train him,” Dooku blurts out, unconsciously using his Master’s speech patterns, and Yoda blinks solemnly at him.

“Will you indeed,” he replies, and Dooku is suddenly achingly aware that he’s not sure if he means Obi-Wan Kenobi or Anakin Skywalker.

Yoda looks aside, shuts his eyes. “As the Force wills, we will see.”


End file.
